Boundaries
by IMPhoenix
Summary: Megamind was withholding things from Roxanne. But if they were to share a life together, he was going to have to open up to her, so they could confront the problem together.  Rated M for adult themes, and disturbing material not appropriate for minors.
1. Sleeping

**"Boundaries"**

**PLOT SUMMARY****: ** Megamind was withholding things from Roxanne. She was trying to be patient. But if they were to share a life together, he was going to have to open up to her, so they could confront the problem together. Rated M for adult themes, and disturbing material not appropriate for minors.

**DISCLAIMER:** DreamWorks owns Megamind; I'm just warping it all out of recognition for my own twisted purposes.

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><p><strong>Author Note<strong>: The genesis of this story was a scene cut from "Redemption" to keep its T rating, coupled with my attempt to answer the question of why Megamind would resist having sex with Roxanne (as he does in "Redemption"). I originally had a different explanation for the latter, before I came up with the one written here. I chose not to include this series of events in "Redemption" because I thought it was too dark, and at times too explicit, for the tone of that story. I tried to write "Boundaries" in such a way that people would not have to read the three stories from my "Redemption" alternate universe/ alternate reality in order to follow the plot of this one. But if you read this and think Megamind and Roxanne are not acting like the characters from the movie, it's because they aren't. They are the characters altered by the events of the "Redemption" universe.

To the small group of people who expressed an interest in more stories by me because they liked the ones I had written previously: Compared to my other stories, this is closest in tone to "Revenge," but darker, with almost no humor, and more explicit sexual content, especially in the 2nd chapter. This might not be what you're looking for.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1. Sleeping<strong>

Roxanne was watching Megamind sleep. The first time he had spent the night in her apartment, it had not been planned, not been a decision he'd made. He had fallen asleep on her couch while they had watched a movie. He had been obsessing about one of his new projects (like usual), and hadn't slept much in three days. But he refused to cancel their date.

So when he dozed midway through the movie, she hadn't minded. In fact, she was glad. She never understood why he always left at the end of the evening, or, truth be told, early in the morning. When she tried to suggest that it would be best to stay, because he was clearly tired, or had had too much to drink (never really true, he was always very moderate in consuming alcohol), he invariably made an excuse. Even when she suggested he could use her couch, rather than share her bed, he never stayed.

That first time, she had considered awakening him and trying to get him to move to her bed. But assuming he would just leave, she let him continue sleeping on the couch, draping a light blanket over him. She wondered if he would be there in the morning when she got up. He was, still sleeping. She was almost done preparing breakfast for both of them when he awoke. She caught him trying to slip away. She could tell he was embarrassed. But she pretended to be insulted, suggesting he was trying to avoid her cooking, and got him to remain until she left for work.

She liked watching him sleep, especially when he was in her bed. He was unguarded then, and it showed how much he trusted her. It was hard for him to trust anyone; understandable, given his childhood, given most of his life experiences. It gave her a sense of ownership of him, that he was hers.

But not completely; there were still some things he withheld from her. Some secrets, and some parts of himself. She was trying to be patient. She had been patient for a long time, longer than most women would be. Her girlfriends would be shocked- over a year of dating, and still no sex. He would never explain why he wouldn't have sex with her. When she tried to raise the issue, get him to talk about it, he would shut down completely. If she pressed him, he would leave.

Oh, they had a _physical_ relationship. There was a lot of affectionate touching. In the beginning, he had initiated the kissing, the hugs, and the caresses as much as she. He had such a hunger for physical affection, which made sense, given his life of emotional deprivation. But there seemed to be boundaries that were difficult for him to cross.

Removing clothing: now that had taken a lot of effort on her part. She basically had to trick him. There was no way she could easily get him out of his typical spandex and leather. She gave him a present of "normal" clothing, and convinced him to try it on for her. She didn't attempt anything for hours during their "date" in her appointment. But later, when cuddled on her couch, she had begun to toy with the buttons on the shirt as they kissed. At first he didn't seem to realize what she was doing. But once it penetrated his consciousness, he became nervous, and tried to stop her hands. She had to use all her temptress ways, caressing him in the usual places that she knew aroused him, and seducing him with words: reassuring him that she wouldn't press him far, that she just wanted a _little_ more intimacy, a little more proof of his love, that she had _human_ needs that she wanted only him to fill.

She smiled remembering that evening. Yes, a very successful effort. She had worn that sexy little number she bought with just this purpose in mind, and he clearly appreciated how it complemented her body. On the couch, he had finally allowed her to unbutton the shirt completely. She had caressed and kissed this novel part of him, a part she had never viewed. He was so slender, thinner than an average, "normal" man, but muscular. She expressed her appreciation for this part of his body, and he seemed surprised, but shyly pleased.

It took additional effort to coax him into her bedroom, more reassurance that she wasn't going to press for "that." She just wanted to show him how the bed was more comfortable for certain types of touching. And, yes, she had tried to get him a little drunk earlier in the evening, introducing him to a different type of alcoholic drink, the sugary and fruity wine coolers. He had such a sweet tooth, and he did drink more than usual.

So it hadn't been too hard to get him to lie on his back on her bed, to accept her straddling his hips. She leaned forward, kissed him fiercely, caressing his head and ears the way she knew he liked. She felt a sense of triumph when his hands slid up her thighs, under her skirt. Yes, now he was initiating something new for him.

And then the mood had been broken when Metro Man showed up on her balcony, wanting to talk to her. She could have killed him. Even after he was finally gone, she couldn't get Megamind quite back to the same spot. But still, they had made progress that evening.

It was months more before he agreed to spend the night in her bed. It required a lot of reassurance that she only wanted his comforting presence beside her; that it was so pleasant to see him in the morning and have breakfast together before she went off to work.

But, of course, this also gave her more opportunities to push his boundaries. She noticed he was much more open to touching her, than letting her touch him. Did he need to be in control? It didn't matter; she didn't care, as long as they made progress. So she showed him what she wanted, directed him, and made requests. He was so eager to please her, as long as she didn't stray too far past the firm barriers he had erected.

When Megamind had asked her to marry him, she had been surprised, but thrilled. Surely he knew what marriage meant, what that implied. Thinking she could address the sex issue obliquely, Roxanne had tried a few times to initiate conversations about children: She mentioned that she wanted to be a mother someday, and asked if he would like to be a daddy to something other than a horde of Brainbots. Megamind gave ... confusing responses: one time he admitted he would like to be a father; once he said he would need to investigate whether genetic engineering would be required for them to have a child together. But whether he said something or nothing, he always changed the subject quickly.

He _had_ to know that marriage meant sex. Would he insist on waiting until their wedding night? She could cope with that if she had to. But if this was the case, the date, which was yet to be set, was going to be sooner rather than later. And she didn't think he would just magically get over ….whatever the problem was just because they had a wedding ceremony. She must convince him to talk about it.

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_He was looking for something, but he couldn't remember what. The place was familiar, but he didn't recognize it. He was feeling nervous, but he didn't know why. He heard a sound, and whirled around._

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><p>He was in motion before his eyes were open, sitting up in bed and scrambling to get away from…what?<p>

"What's wrong?" Roxanne asked softly.

Oh, that's right, that's where he was: Roxanne's apartment, Roxanne's bedroom …Roxanne's bed. He had conflicting emotions about being in this location: mostly good ones now, but still some … discomfort. He tried not to show it. He didn't want to hurt her feelings; for her to think it had anything to do with her. No, it had _nothing _to do with her. She was... amazing, wonderful, beautiful. She loved him, something he never ceased to marvel over. The problem was all inside him. He didn't want her to know. _He_ didn't want to know. He tried to forget it. For long stretches, he managed to forget, to push it out of his consciousness, to pretend it wasn't an issue, that it had no effect on him.

His heart was starting to slow down. He blinked back the tears beginning to prick at the corners of his eyes. He covered his face so she wouldn't see. He rubbed his eyes surreptitiously, removing any traces.

He hadn't answered her. She put a hand on his shoulder, trying to be comforting, saying again softly, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he insisted, turning away from her.

_Should she press him? _Roxanne considered, and decided to take the risk. "Look, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But please don't lie to me." She knew she was pushing a very big button. He had promised her long ago that he wouldn't lie to her anymore. He had a lot of guilt about past lies.

She could see it in the tension in his shoulders, in the fear in his eyes when he turned back to her. Yes, arrow straight to the heart. She felt a little guilty now herself about manipulating him, but only a little.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" he began.

"Shhh," she interrupted him. "I just hate to see you so upset. Please let me help you feel better." Not waiting for permission, she put her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Eventually, she felt his muscles loosen and felt him relax against her… into her.

_Why do I resist this? _he thought_. _ Roxanne did help soothe him. He craved this comforting touch. It made him feel warm, loved, _safe_. It was something he hadn't had since he was a young. When he had been an infant- and a very small child- his 'uncles' had held him, given him hugs. He did have those memories. But that was so long ago. Once he moved out of toddlerhood the men had been very careful, not wanting the Warden to mistake their interest in the child as something inappropriate. As he got older, his 'uncles' mostly lost interest in him, or were released. Even the remaining ones, while continuing to care for his welfare, had so little to give him. They could praise the creativity of his projects, but they didn't understand them, didn't really understand him. And the caring, comforting touches had stopped.

Minion cared for him as a child, but he couldn't hug him, or embrace him. Only when Roxanne and he began to date did the adult Megamind begin to get the touch he had yearned for.

He let Roxanne comfort him, but he wasn't ready to open up, not totally. Still, he felt guilty for lying, for withholding, when she only wanted to help him. He owed her something. He tentatively offered, "It was just a bad dream."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

_No_, he thought. But _she_ wants to _hear_ about it. The sharing helps her feel closer to him; she had explained this numerous times before. What was he willing to say? He took a deep breath, and tried to remain- or at least appear- calm. "I was somewhere familiar, but I wasn't sure where. I was looking for something, but I can't remember what. And something startled me and I woke up. That's it."

Roxanne had a feeling there was more, but made a tactical retreat, deciding they had accomplished enough for tonight. She just snuggled up against him, her arms around him."Well, let's just try to get back to sleep, and hopefully any more dreams will be good ones."

Megamind was glad she had let it drop, and agreed with her suggestion. Eventually, they both drifted off to sleep. But before she did so, Roxanne made the commitment to herself that she would get him to return to this topic. He had started awake from nightmares numerous times before. Well, she assumed it was nightmares awakening him. His behavior upon awakening suggested nightmares, or maybe night terrors. She usually pretended to remain asleep once it became clear he never wanted to talk about it. This was the first time he had shared anything when she asked him, and he had just admitted to a "bad dream." She wondered, were the nightmares the reason he had avoided spending the night in her apartment for so long? Was he embarrassed about them? And the nightmares, or at least the startled awakenings, seemed to be happening more often. There was more to this, she just knew it. Hmmm. The sex and the nightmares: two things he avoided discussing. Was there a connection, or just a pattern of avoiding the discussion of difficult things? The nosy reporter was going to investigate. She would have to tread carefully, but she wouldn't give up.

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><p><strong>AUTHOR NOTE<strong>: Thanks to my beta reader, nineteennintytwo, for advice and suggestions.


	2. Nightmare

**"Boundaries"**

**Author Notes**: Thanks to my beta reader, nineteennintytwo, and my Chapter 1 reviewers (NobodyToo, mommy2caitlyn, Karen B. Jones, FluffyFurball, VampsMoonAngel, Phenixia Sama ,and A fellow MM fan), and even those who put this on story alert. I would have posted the end of the story anyway, after all the time I put into writing it, but it's nice to know some people are interested in reading it.

Warning: Here comes the angst, the darkness, and what my beta reader called the "disturbing material inappropriate for minors."

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><p><strong>Chapter 2. Nightmare<strong>

They had gone riding on the hoverbike, something they both enjoyed. Megamind asked to come in rather than waiting for an invitation like he usually did. Sitting cuddled on the couch, Roxanne tentatively tried to lead into one of those difficult issues.

"I've been wondering; why did you ask me to marry you?"

"Are you having second thoughts?" Megamind was looking a little worried.

"No, no. I was just wondering...what your thoughts were when you decided to ask me?"

Now he was confused. "I told you. I love you, and want us to be together forever. Isn't that enough? Isn't that the reason people decide to marry?"

"Well, yes, but people sometimes have different reasons for marriage, or maybe a better way to say it is that people have different expectations of marriage, different priorities."

"I'm sorry, but I still don't understand."

"Usually, yes, people marry for love, but it's more complicated than that. People want different things from marriage, not just love, but things like companionship, children, sex, and security. I just wondered what you envisioned our married life together would be like; what you were expecting to get from marriage."

Megamind's face had gone from confusion to slight nervousness as she spoke. Suddenly he surprised her by kissing her- hard. He pulled away long enough to murmur, "Couldn't we discuss this later? I really had another plan for this evening." And he began to kiss her again, drawing her down into a prone position on the couch.

_Well, well, well,_ Roxanne thought, _he's learned something new_. Instead of being silent or leaving, he had turned the tables on her, trying to distract her from questions he clearly wanted to avoid. Alright, she would reward this change in tactics. She would let him distract her- for tonight.

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><p>Megamind was watching Roxanne sleep. He knew he hadn't fooled her. This had just been…..a more pleasant way to be evasive, rather than silence or fleeing her apartment like he used to do. He sighed. Roxanne was right. He was avoiding issues he needed to face, that <em>they<em> needed to face.

What _had_ he been thinking of, asking Roxanne to marry him? The answer was: he _hadn't_ been _thinking_. He had been _feeling_; he had been_ wanting_. Loving her desperately, terrified of losing her, wanting her to be his, to be tied to him in every way possible. He wanted reassurance of her devotion to him, and a commitment from her. But he hadn't _thought_ it through. He realized he liked the _engagement_ part, but wasn't sure about the _marriage _part. He enjoyed what they shared now, but wasn't sure he could give Roxanne everything she expected, everything she wanted. He wasn't sure he could be a husband, in all the ways that word implied.

That technique he had of compartmentalizing difficult issues was useful for getting projects done and making inventions -focusing all his attention on one aspect of a problem, a project, or a device at a time, and not thinking about possible complications that could occur later on. But it apparently wasn't good for relationships.

Maybe he should break their engagement…No! The thought of giving her up caused an unendurable pain. He couldn't do it. He would just have to figure out how to do… whatever it was he needed to do.

_No, admit it to yourself_. The biggest barrier, the biggest problem was the sex part- the _intercourse_ part. It wasn't like he didn't think about it, like he didn't _desire_ Roxanne. It's just that whenever he allowed his thoughts to go beyond the vague, unfocused yearning, a wall went up inside him. Trying to go past that barrier always resulted in panicky feelings.

This was going nowhere. He closed his eyes, and tried to sleep. Sometimes solutions came to him while he slept, while he dreamed.

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_He was looking for something, but he couldn't remember what. The place was familiar, but he didn't recognize it. He was feeling nervous, but he didn't know why. He heard a sound, and whirled around._

_The man was huge, much taller than he, so much bigger. He had seen the man before, staring at him, watching him. The man smiled at him, and his heart began to race. The man reached for him and…_

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><p>And suddenly he was sobbing, and Roxanne was holding him, trying to soothe him, asking him how she could help.<p>

He couldn't answer, not for a while.

Finally he choked out, "A nightmare, just a nightmare."

Softly Roxanne said, "I don't think that's _just_ a nightmare. I don't expect you to do it before you're ready, but someday we have to talk about whatever is behind this nightmare. You have to stop running away from whatever the problem is, because apparently it's not going away. It keeps coming up."

Megamind whispered, "You're right."

Roxanne asked, "Do you have any idea what the dream means, what or where it's coming from?"

After an extended silence, he pushed the words out. "It's a memory… a terrible memory. Something I tried to forget… something I succeeded in forgetting for a long time."

"Are you ready to tell me?"

"No…. but I'll try anyway." And the tears never stopped leaking from his bright green eyes as he spoke. She held him the entire time.

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He had been looking for something for one of his projects. He always took Minion with him everywhere: that was Minion's rule. But this time Minion was asleep, and he didn't want to wake him. This was one of those outings that Minion would try to talk him out of, saying it was too dangerous, and he would get in trouble. A_gain_. But he wasn't a baby anymore. And he was very clever, smarter than anyone in the prison, even the Warden, who seemed sometimes to be all knowing. But that's just because the Warden had all the guards working for him, and control of all the cameras.

He knew they were restricting his access to information, afraid of what he would do _next_ if he learned even more. He never _wanted_ to cause trouble. He would just get bored. Except for the occasional science show, television was so tedious. He had gone through all of the interesting books in the prison library. There were so many ideas running through his mind, bursting into his brain. He knew he could do something special, something that would make the world sit up and take notice of him - recognize his genius, his exceptional talent - if he was just given the chance.

So he was off searching for parts to scavenge, looking for things he could use that were just lying around. It wasn't really stealing if no one seemed to want it, was it? Besides, it was just the Warden and the guards who made a big deal about stealing. His uncles seemed to think stealing was OK. It was like they always said: if you don't get caught, you don't get punished. He would be careful.

He could get into areas the adult prisoners could not because he was small - small even for his age. His size allowed him to squeeze through bars that kept adults out, to go through air vents that would have been impossible for anyone else in the facility. His age and size worked both for and against him. Some staff saw him as harmless, knew he lived there, and never bothered him. But others seemed to think he either needed to be protected, or might cause trouble, and would try to take him back to his cell if they saw him. It all depended on which staff member, how familiar the person was with the strange blue skinned child, and how recently he had gotten into trouble. He was lucky today. He encountered no one who tried to stop him. He had become pretty good at avoiding notice, sneaking around without others seeing him.

He went to all the usual places: the laundry, the library, the kitchen, the medical facility, the weight room. He had to go through the air vents to get to the weapons room, but everything was locked up and there was nothing lying around loose that was usable.

He had no luck finding anything worthwhile to scavenge. He was in an empty corridor, trying to decide whether to give up and go back to the cell he called his room, when the man approached him.

Uncle Sully said the man was dangerous, and to stay away from him. He sometimes noticed the man watching him, and it made him nervous, but he couldn't say why.

Now the man was smiling at him. This made him more anxious.

"Hello, little guy. They call you Blue, don't they?"

He said nothing. He was keeping his eyes on the man, but still checking his peripheral vision. Maybe someone would come by. He was trying to sort through his options. Where was the closest air vent? Could he get to it with enough time to open it and enter? What rooms were close? Was there anything in them he could use as a weapon? Where were the closest cameras? How fast could help arrive if one of the guards saw him being …hurt? He tried to edge away slowly, stay out of reach.

"Hey! Where're ya going?" And the man grabbed him, muffling his mouth with a large hand. Blue struggled, but the man was so much bigger and stronger. The panic was wiping away any coherent thought, any ability to plan, to strategize. But he couldn't help it. There was a buzzing in his brain, and he couldn't hear what the man was saying. He didn't know where they were going. He couldn't breathe; he felt like he was choking.

Suddenly they were someplace dark, gloomy. The man was-

NO, he wasn't going to think about it, or pay attention to it. He was going to block it out, like when the Warden was giving him another lecture, and he would let his mind drift to the latest project he was devising in his notebooks. The time would pass, and it would be over before he knew it. And he would only vaguely recall what had been said, but enough that if the warden asked him to repeat it, he could cobble together something acceptable.

It largely worked this time, too. He couldn't think of anything pleasant, or interesting, any of his projects or ideas. The terror and the horror were too strong. Instead, he thought about when he was 8 days old: the klaxons sounding, his mother grabbing him and running; the bewilderment of being placed in the space pod; the heartbreaking last view of his parents before he lost them forever; the jerky, chaotic travel to the planet Earth. That memory matched his feelings, but it was a familiar memory, comforting in its own way. He wouldn't forget the way he felt today. But maybe he could trick his excellent, unforgiving memory, so he would not recall _what_ happened today. He would pretend it never happened.

He remembered running through the corridors, ignoring the guard who yelled at him, back to his cell, back to Minion in his sphere. As soon as he entered his room, he scooped up the sphere, heedless as to whether Minion was awake or not, pressing his hands, his arms, his face into contact with the sphere, putting as much of himself as he could in contact with the glass that wasn't glass- that was as much force field as substance, and had a name no human could say. And he was crying, a wordless keening, for there were no words, in any language, to describe what he felt.

Minion had been prepared to give a harsh scolding to his charge for leaving him behind. Minion was his protector, but the abrupt departure from their home world left Minion with few of the resources his kind usually had to safeguard the children in their care. He was not totally unarmed, but the people of this planet had no respect for someone of his position, judging him by their preconceptions. The uncles and the Warden, even a few of the guards, seemed to accept that Minion was important to the child, and allowed the child to take what they called "the fish" everywhere. Roaming around the corridors _without_ the child- that was an invitation to being confiscated like a simple toy or pet, possibly separated for a long time or even permanently. So Minion had not gone in search of the child when he awoke to find himself alone.

The child clearly needed no reprimand; something terrible had happened. What he needed was comfort, and Minion did the best he could, speaking in the language of their home world, murmuring the soothing phrases, singing the songs of solace, until the child was calm enough to talk. Except he wouldn't say much, insisting he was tired and had to sleep. So Minion let him. Later, when the child awoke, it took a long time to coax the fragmented story from him.

Minion never ceased to be astonished and alarmed at the horrors of this planet. Did the parents have any idea what they were sending their precious child to, when they launched him from their dying world? Minion was so angry. He considered killing the man himself. It would give him some satisfaction, but it would be more expedient, and less dangerous, to use the resources of this planet. Minion knew he must hide from the humans just how lethal he could be. It was best if they continued to see him as harmless. The 'uncles' still seemed to care for the child, especially the one named Sully, who also appeared to be the smartest and the most cunning. Minion would convince the child to tell Sully, and Minion was sure Sully would intervene and protect the child from any future injury by this evil man. The child had already apologized profusely for breaking Minion's rule, and swore he would never go anywhere without him again.

And Uncle Sully did take care of the problem. He arranged for some trusted prisoners to discreetly beat the man, not enough to kill him, because that could result in a major investigation. But he wasn't going to be hurting anyone for a long time. The Warden received a circumspect message indicating what he had done to the child, and the man was transferred to another prison. Through the grapevine it was learned that the man eventually managed to get himself killed during a fight at the new location. Minion didn't care how or why it happened. He was satisfied. Then there was the matter of how the man had been allowed to roam free, so that he had been capable of reaching the child. The prisoners had gotten the information about the bribe during the beating. That guard lost his job. It didn't seem like a big enough consequence, but it was all that could be arranged.

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><p>Roxanne was crying, too, by the end of the story. She murmured, "I'm so, so sorry you went through that… and that you're still hurting because of it."<p>

"I feel so damaged inside. I don't know if I can be what you need me to be, what you want me to be…. How can you still want me?"

"It wasn't your fault," she tried to assure him.

"It felt like it was my fault. Like it was my punishment for breaking the rule, for not being careful enough, or clever enough to get away."

"You were a small child. I don't care how intelligent or ingenious you were, you were still physically weak. It's never the child's fault. You couldn't help it. We'll get through this. We can get you professional help."

"_No_! No doctors, no experts, or therapists. I can't share this pain, this darkness, with a _stranger_."

"Will you let _me_ attempt to help you then?"

After a long moment he said, "I'm willing to _try_."

She was a reporter; she knew how to do research. She read some books and articles, and talked to a few experts in the guise of preparing for a news report. She incorporated what she learned with what she had already been doing: step by step, pushing him to get more comfortable with greater intimacy. Stopping when the panic threatened to overwhelm him, helping him calm himself before they tried again.

But it was a lot easier because she no longer had to trick him or manipulate him. He was a willing participant in the process. She was proud of him for facing his fears and anxieties. It took months. Megamind refused to set a date for the wedding until he could "fulfill all the responsibilities of a husband" for her. She had to give him credit. He really was trying.

They finally reached a critical stage: being completely naked with each other. Megamind warned her that he didn't look like a human male, not exactly. He was blue, as she had expected, with a faint lavender flushing. She wondered if the pronounced ridges along the shaft would affect the way she felt during the actual act. The first time she touched him there, Megamind thought he would die of either the pleasure or the panic. But he used the calming strategies he had learned, and Roxanne was slow and gentle. The panic gradually subsided, leaving only pleasure in its wake.

While Megamind struggled to control his anxiety, Roxanne struggled with her lust. It was difficult to stop herself from trying to take him right then. But she reminded herself that she wanted- _she needed_- his first time to be a positive experience. The last thing she wanted was to re-traumatize him and undo all their work.

Finally, Megamind decided that he was ready to try. He treated it like one of his former battles, where he would devise a plan. He asked that she provide that drink again, the one that was sweet and easy to consume, because he thought being a little drunk would help. He wanted her to wear the short, blue dress like before, and he would wear the normal clothing that made it easy for Roxanne to undress him. He wanted her to play the temptress- the seducer.

"Don't you want to be the one in control?" she inquired.

He shook his head. "No, that just brings up performance anxiety. I have enough anxiety as it is."

They began by replaying that evening, starting on her couch, the kissing and the caresses, Roxanne unbuttoning his shirt. By the time she led him to the bedroom, desire was overwhelming the anxiety. He was passively cooperative as she removed his clothes, but she directed him to help her undress. He did so, with fingers shaking slightly.

As she climbed on top of him, the anxiety threatened to return, but he reminded himself to focus on the moment, the pleasure of the touches, instead of worrying about _later_. It helped to focus on the feel of Roxanne's flesh beneath his hands… of her body against his. She thrust against him again and again until she felt him harden. When she could hear his breathing quicken and keep pace with her own fast pants, she asked him, "Are you ready?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"Tell me that you want me," she directed.

"What?"

"_Tell me_ that you want me."

"Um, I want you," he whispered.

"No, say it like you mean it."

"I _want_ you," he said more firmly, low and husky.

"Tell me _what_ you want."

He understood. She was the temptress, but she wanted him to have no doubt in his mind that this was more than just surrender; this was _his_ _choice_.

"I want you, Roxanne," he said again. "I _want_ you to take me. Take me _now_."

She took him inside her, and the world exploded.

* * *

><p>They were entwined in each others' arms. Roxanne was still, just holding him, but Megamind's fingers kept caressing her skin gently, making slow little curves, as though he was exploring her for the first time. He had told her repeatedly that it had been wonderful and amazing; better than he had ever expected, and ever imagined. Roxanne reassured him, when he tentatively asked, that the pleasure was <em>quite<em> mutual.

After a long silence, Roxanne inquired, "Does this mean we can set a date for the wedding?"

He chuckled softly. "Yes. How soon do you want to get married?"

"How soon can we put together a wedding? Or do you want to elope?"

"I think Minion actually has the wedding planned already. He's probably just waiting for us to bring it up so he can get our final approval. Unless _you_ want to elope?"

"No. I want a wedding, but just a small one. Just our closest friends and family. Besides, it would hurt Minion's feelings to not involve him."

"Then we'll talk to him tomorrow." A moment later, Megamind asked her, "How soon before we can try again?"

"Whenever you want."

"How about, _now_?" And he grabbed her and rolled, so that she was beneath him. "But this time, _I_ want to be on top."

* * *

><p><strong>Author Notes:<strong>

The name Sully is from the blue monster in _Monster, Inc_, the scary creature who's a big softie inside, and cares for the small child from another world. It just seemed appropriate.

If you have any positive feelings about this, give me a review or send me feedback. If you hated it, let's just pretend it never happened.


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